


A Brief Pause

by TheBookWorm01



Category: Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: F/M, Short & Sweet, is this considered a drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 13:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15950291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBookWorm01/pseuds/TheBookWorm01
Summary: A quiet moment between Solona and Alistair after the events of Awakening.





	A Brief Pause

**Author's Note:**

> 'Kay, so this is the first fic I've posted online in years. It's only around five hundred words and it's not the thing I thought I was gonna put on this site first, but here we are. I've got a lot of stories to tell for my Dragon Age darlings and hopefully you guys will enjoy the ride, but for now: here's my warden enjoying a moment of peace with her love.

Solona breathed deeply as Alistair’s fingers combed through her hair, his other hand sifting through loose sheets of parchment scattered by her head. Her head rose and fell on his stomach, his even breathing rocking her into a stupor. A fire, kept steady by a simple glyph etched into the hearth, warmed the small living room and painted the room in soft orange light. Duncan lay sprawled atop the couch, his paws occasionally swatting at Alistair’s head when the mabari’s dreams turned to more exciting adventures than the one his masters had brought him along on.

The pair were content to let the excitement remain in the dog’s imagination. After the chaos of the Blight, she had assumed that, aside from cleaning up whatever remained of the darkspawn hordes, life would remain relatively calm. But the darkspawn did not retreat and the madness continued. Alistair remained in Denerim to rule while she oversaw Vigil’s Keep, Amaranthine, and the eventual destruction of the Architect and the Mother. If he hadn’t been so concerned for her wellbeing when she told him of all that happened, he might have been upset that he hadn’t been able to come along. Action was something he was accustomed to, diplomacy and paperwork were not. Still, he was proving to be a good king despite, or perhaps because of, his reservations to ruling. Their duties kept them apart and neither was ever content with the stolen seconds they wrung from the world.

Sparse as they were, she would not complain about the time they were able to spend together. The moments they were able to spend alone were a gift from the Maker. Being able to look into his eyes, feel his body next to hers, hear his breath in his chest, it was more than she had dared to hope for. More than she had let herself even dream about, her spirit searching the Fade for some sliver of intimacy while her body lay in the apprentices’ quarters in Kinloch Hold. She thought of that girl often - the one who was blind to her own suffering. What would she think of the hero who now sat cradled in the lap of a king?

She lifted herself from the ground, pulling the thick woolen blanket with her, and tucked her side into his, laying her head on his chest to feel his heart pumping beneath her ear. He settled his hand on her waist, resting his fingers on the rolling hill of her hips.

There would be obligations to attend to tomorrow. Documents to sign, dignitaries to meet, adoring crowds to part. But for now, she breathed in each moment Alistair’s lips touched the top of her head in an absent minded kiss, pushing away the thought that this moment could never be long enough. That she would gladly stay here, locked in time, until the Maker called them home. There was more that she wanted from life, and she wondered just how far she’d go to steal just one more thing for herself. For them both. It was enough for now, though, with the passing whispers of shifting parchment and rumbling breaths of her slumbering dog rising around her, to let her lover’s heartbeat sing her to sleep.


End file.
